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“Mmm, Roland. Is this all for me?” I heard him say as he lowered himself to his knees, prepared to worship me with his mouth. I swore I could feel the heat of his tongue lapping at my crown, it was so damn real. My hand worked faster, harder, as he ran his hands over my hips and around to my ass, spreading me with his fingers…

“Fuck, Emerson. Yes!” I cried. As I shuddered and shook, my cum splattering across the bottom of the tub to be washed down the drain, instead of into his mouth like I’d imagined, I heard my alarm going off in the bedroom.

I blinked my eyes open and looked down and my semi still heavy in my fist and sighed again. “Work. Right.” I cranked off the water, dried off, and wrapped the towel around my waist as I padded over to the bedside table to turn off my alarm.

Routine was good. Everything I did was with Emerson in mind, and not just the masturbating part of it. I pulled open my closet and brought out my freshly laundered uniform of black pants and white button-up and laid them across the bed, then I set up my ironing board and spent ten minutes making sure to smooth out every wrinkle. Emerson liked perfection, and I wanted to be that for him.

I ate a quick bowl of cereal, standing in the kitchen still in my towel, before getting dressed. I didn’t want to risk spilling food on my clothes. Then I got dressed and stood in front of the bathroom mirror and tied a crisp knot in my tie, laying the collar down. Running a bit of product through my hair, I took a deep breath. Maybe today would be the day.

Locking my apartment door behind me, I walked down the hall, stopping halfway to the stairwell at the apartment next to mine. I gave a soft knock in case she was sleeping, even though I could hear the TV blasting all the way from my own living room, then used my key to open the door. I peeked in and saw Collette in her armchair in front of the TV, feet up, her short gray hair in curlers.

“Roland, is that you?” she called over the blare from the TV, squinting in my direction, ignoring her glasses hanging around her neck on a beaded chain.

“Yes, it’s me. Were you expecting someone else?” I stepped in and wiped my shoes on the mat out of habit, closing the door behind me.

“Oh, you know. Just some young lothario, come to seduce me.” She cackled, wiggling her slippered feet in delight.

I picked up her dinner dishes from the side table and brought them to the kitchen for her. Collette was wearing her housecoat, wrapped tight around her all the way up to her neck, even though it had to be close to 90 degrees in here. “Aren’t you hot?” I asked, but she just shrugged, her eyes focused on the TV. I stepped over to the air-conditioning unit in the window and turned it on, giving it a little nudge to get it started, the fan giving a metallic whine of complaint.

“Do you have time to watch some of my show with me?” she asked hopefully. She looked almost ready for bed.

“I wish I could, but I’m just heading to work. Do you need anything before I go?”

She pretended she hadn’t heard my question. Instead, she reached for my hand. “Have I ever told you about my grandson, Alan? He’s about your age. Such a good boy. Tall, you know, although everyone seems tall to me, so what do I know. He’s sweet too, brings me flowers.”

“Yes, I believe you’ve mentioned him.” Only every time I stop by, I thought with affection. Collette was sharp as a tack, and I knew there was nothing wrong with her memory. She was just playing matchmaker.

Sure enough, she followed it up with, “You know, I bet he would bring you flowers too, if you’d let him.”

Now it was my turn to pretend I hadn’t heard her. “Do you need me to help you get to bed?” I asked.

“Such a flirt,” she joked. “No, I’ll be fine. I’m just gonna finish my show.” I glanced at the TV where Lonely Alpha was on. It was a reality dating show, but I wasn’t a fan. I didn’t understand how these people could claim to fall in love after only 12 episodes. “It’s down to the final four omegas, and I need to know who’s getting the boot.”

“Sure, but don’t fall asleep in your chair, okay? You know how it tweaks your back.”

She patted my hand before letting it go. “Such a good boy you are, Roland. You’re going to make some lucky alpha very happy one day.”

My heart gave another squeeze, nearly painful, and I swallowed hard. I didn’t want some lucky alpha. I wanted Emerson.

It was that thought which carried me all the way to work—anticipating that first glimpse of him, the way his face would light up when I caught him by surprise, the twitch of his lips into an almost smile before he could get control of his reaction. I was barely aware of the bus rocking, starting and stopping its way downtown, but luckily my feet knew where to get off.

As soon as I stepped into the hotel lobby, I sucked in a breath and held it, my eyes searching him out—but there was no sign of him. His office door was closed. Assuming he was inside, I hurried to the staffroom to grab my blazer from my locker; I didn’t want him to miss him leaving.

“Hey, Roland. How’s it going?” someone said, Patrick from housekeeping maybe, I wasn’t really paying attention.

“Hmm? Yeah, for sure,” I mumbled, hurrying past. “See ya later.” Patrick just shook his head, saying something about me being distracted all the time, but I didn’t have time to stop and ask what he meant. He was hardly one to talk about being focused while at work. He’d recently published his first romance novel, so steamy that he’d put it under a pen name because he didn’t want his mom reading it. He was always pulling out his notepad to take notes, planning out the next book.

Emerging back at the front desk, my eyes went straight to Emerson’s office door, still closed. I was ten minutes early for my shift, but that was fine with me.

I was taking over for Mercy. She was still pretty new, but she knew what she was doing. She never made mistakes, and I liked that she was quiet and kept to herself, and she never expected me to be chatty either. In fact, she seemed to prefer when I spaced out. It was nice. Mercy was better suited to running the daycare Emerson had set up for guests who needed a breather, but when there weren’t any kids in attendance, she worked the front desk. As great as she was with kids, adults were another story. She had once confessed to me that she found it difficult to read people’s faces. They could be smiling while saying the rudest things. She didn’t like the disparity. With kids, you always knew where you stood.

Mercy remained at her position until 10pm exactly, the end of her shift, before stepping back from the desk without a word.

My eyes flicked again to the closed door, a sense of panic descending. Had I missed him already? But he was always here this late. I always thought it was because he wanted to see me, I hoped… Before Mercy could disappear down the hall to the staffroom, I quickly asked, “Uh, hey, Mercy, did Mr. Holland go home for the night?”

She turned her black eyes on me briefly and shook her head.

I sighed, nodding. “Okay, thanks. Good night.” The relief I felt was short-lived. If he hadn’t gone home, then where was he? Maybe he wasn’t even here at all. Did something happen? Was he okay?

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